Because, you should have children playing here, you should have families having picnics, you should have a goddamn petting zoo. But instead you've got these stupid electric carts for you old men with nothing better to do.

That's nothing. A couple I used to work with bought a course-adjacent house. Being somewhat normal and avid golfers they understood that the house would be pelted with golf balls regularly and that sunny weekend days were risky days to be in the backyard.

What they didn't expect was the old men in the "crack of dawn" foursomes to wake them by screaming "Corksucking motherfarking coontrag son of a whore ball! You slicing piece of farking shiat!" and, on more than one occasion, looking out the window to see an old man shiatting in the treeline between their house and the 5th fairway.